Howl
by ToothPasteCanyon
Summary: Stan finds a more lucrative use for the spare bedroom discovered in the Mystery Shack. After a series of terrifying experiences, however, he wishes he just left it as Soos' break room.
1. Chapter 1

"You call this a made bed, Dipper?" Stan crossed his arms. "This looks like a bear slept in it, and I'm speaking from experience!"

Mabel giggled. "Give him a break, Grunkle Stan. Have you seen his bed in the attic? I don't think he's even washed it the whole time we've been here!"

"What? I have!"

"When?"

"...Several times! You just didn't see it. Why-why does it matter, anyway?"

"Hehe, you're blushing."

"No, I'm not." Dipper held the sheets up to hide his burning cheeks. "Grunkle Stan, why are we suddenly doing a B&B anyway?"

"Think about it, kid; you're a wallet- I mean, tourist – stuck deep in the middle of nowhere. The sun's going down, and you'll want somewhere to stay, and you won't be too picky about the quality... or the price!" He rubbed his hands together in glee. "I should've unblocked that spare bedroom years ago! Anyway, I've gotta go glue down everything valuable in this house in case our guest gets any ideas. You two, keep makin' the bed!"

"Sure thing, Grunkle Stan." Dipper rolled his eyes. "I totally want some random person staying over or whatever."

"Aww, Dipper. I think it'll be fun!"

"How, exactly?"

"Meeting new people is awesome! What if they're a new friend to talk about cute boys with? What if...they are a cute boy?"

"Somehow, I'm doubtful of that."

Mabel stuck out her tongue. "Don't be such a downer, bro bro! This is gonna be an adventure! Also, you put the pillowcases on inside out."

Little did Mabel know, she was right. About both statements.

* * *

Another day at the Mystery Shack passed without too much excitement. Stan tried peddling his new accommodation, but strangely enough people didn't seem too keen on it – maybe it was the waiver. Somebody was almost sold, but Stan found he had glued the only pen in the Gift Shop to the cash register, and in the ensuing search for another one the guest became bored and left.

By the end of it all, Stan was in a thoroughly bad mood.

"I can't believe not one person wanted a room! Suckers don't know what they're missing." He stalked over to the 'we are open' sign and tried to turn it over; unfortunately, he had also glued that firmly to the glass. "Argh, this is gonna be happening for months. I could've used that glue for attractions!"

Mabel ran over to her Grunkle. "Don't be angry, Grunkle Stan! You gotta turn that frown upside down!"

"Not gonna happen, kid."

"Do it for Mabel!"

Dipper looked over from the cash register; his great uncle really did look in need of cheering up. "Maybe, um, someone'll come tomorrow?"

"Yeah, Grunkle Stan! Now you better start smiling before I grab your face!"

"Maybe you kids are right." Stan straightened and began to unbutton his suit. "Anyway, enough about work. How's about the three of us settle down in the living room and see what's on TV, huh?"

Dipper and Mabel nodded in agreement, and they were just heading out when the roar of an engine came rumbling up their drive. They looked outside to see a very battered red car coming to a halt in front of the Mystery Shack.

"Who's she?" Mabel pressed her face to the glass as a woman got out and looked around. Stan grabbed his suit from where he had hung it from the rack.

"Let me handle this, kids. It's probably some lost tourist I can charge for directions." He opened the door. "Welcome to the Mystery Shack! What can I interest you in; maps, trinkets, maybe a little tour? We just closed, but a little money goes a long way, y'know?"

The woman smiled, throwing on a big fur coat she had been carrying in one arm. "Hi! I'm looking for a place to stay. I heard from town that you have a room?"

Stan lit up. "We do! Since you're pretty late, I'm gonna have to charge you extra-"

"That's fine!"

"Then come in! Dipper, fetch me a pen!" He stopped for a moment to consider the car outside. "Uh, do you need us to call a mechanic or something? That car looks pretty beat up."

"Oh, it's fine. I like to call this my getaway vehicle." She gave the bonnet a few pats before heading for the door. "Now, what's for supper?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Pancakes are almost ready!" Stan called from the kitchen. Dipper and Mabel were laying the table, casting glances at the woman sitting in front of the TV and watching the news. For Dipper, this was far too awkward a situation; were you supposed to talk to the random stranger, or would that be rude?

Mabel on the other hand, had no such inhibitions.

"So what's your name? I'm Mabel!" She leaned right over the woman, hair falling into the stranger's face. "Why'd you come to Gravity Falls? Know any cute boys?"

"Mabel!"

The woman laughed, brushing hair out of her face. "You're an energetic one. Is that your brother?"

"Yeah, this Dipper! We're twins." She waved him over. "Come say hi, Dipper!"

Dipper nervously waved. "Um, hi."

"He's kinda dorky, but I love him all the same."

"And the bloke in the kitchen is your..."

"Great uncle. We call him Grunkle Stan!"

She nodded. "So your parents, where are they?"

"At home! We're just staying for the summer. Now, it's my turn to ask you some questions!" She poked the woman's fur coat. "Ew, is this real?"

" _Mabel_!"

"Hey, animal coats are mean!"

The woman laughed. "Don't worry, I'd sooner wear a human coat than one of those. I just like how soft it is."

Mabel gave the garment a proper stroke, and her eyes went wide. "Ooooohhhh, so soft! So... soft..."

"Alright, who wants pancakes?" Stan burst into the living room. "Mabel, stop stroking that poor woman and come sit down."

The woman smiled. "Oh, I don't mind. She's a wonderful young lady, Stan."

"Ehhh... thanks?"

Dinner passed well enough, with most parties absorbed in their food. The woman kept glancing at the TV. One could had to wonder why; Sandra Jimenez going on about woodcutting wasn't terribly interesting, to say the least.

Stan gulped down a mouthful of pancake. "Lookin' for something?"

The woman nodded. "Does this television have any national news channels?"

"No, the damn thing's only local. Why?"

"I had an interview recently. I was wondering if I could catch it."

Mabel leaned forwards. "You're famous?"

"You could say that."

"Oh my gosh, really? Why?"

The woman smiled. "Maybe tomorrow, you could switch on the telly and find out. Right now, I think I'm headed to bed. Goodnight!"

"Goodnight, Miss..." Stan blinked as she walked off. "Hey, did we ever get her name?"

"No, but I like her!"

"You like everyone, Mabel." Dipper crossed his arms. "Was it just me, or was she a bit... weird?"

Stan nodded. "Yeah, she's weird. All that stuff about being famous? Ha, fat chance! But don't worry, I've glued down anything she thinks about taking, so I'm not worried." He patted the chair and then stood up. "Right, so who's up for some Ducktective?"

* * *

It was midnight. Stan, Dipper and Mabel were snoring before a dimly lit TV, some program quietly droning in the background. All in all, a peaceful scene.

A furry figure entered from the side, lit a muted blue from the television. She moved silently across the room to Mabel, happily snoozing on the arm of the chair. Mabel, who had her arm wrapped around Stan's chest and her head resting on his shoulder.

The woman smiled down at her with glistening teeth. She took the fur coat off of her shoulders, gently wrapping it around the girl. Once she had done so, she removed Mabel's hand from her uncle's – incurring a groan and frown from her in the process – and leaned over it.

One second passed, then two.

The woman then straightened, still smiling, and walked back to the spare room. Three hours later, police sirens stirred Stan from his sleep.

"Huh... what?" The conman jumped at the sight of a fleet of police cars blazing up to his door. His hand instantly went for the smoke bombs stashed under the couch, only to find them glued to the frame. "Dammit! Why did I glue these in the first place? You're losing it, Stan!"

Mabel raised her head. "What's happening?"

"Grunkle Stan, why are the police here?"

"Kids! Don't worry, I'll handle this. As long as nobody mentions a black truck, we should be good." He raised an eyebrow at the sound of a helicopter. "Though I gotta say, this seems a little overkill for pug smuggling."

" _Police_!" The door was kicked down, and the three suddenly found themselves blinded by a half-dozen blazing flashlights. "Hands in the air! Now!"

Stan moved in front of Dipper and Mabel, holding his hands up. "Hey, hey, there are kids here! What's with the SWAT team?"

"The residents are safe." One officer was saying into his radio. "Extracting now."

"Huh?" He blinked in confusion, letting himself be led outside. "Wait, who're you arresting then?"

They said nothing, ushering the three outside and running right back to the house. Stan watched in confusion as the helicopter spotlight swept across the Shack.

"What's going on?" Mabel moved to take her brother's hand, but instead winced in pain. "Oww..."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, my hand..." She held it up to the light, where one could clearly see bite marks and dried blood. "When did this happen?"

Stan looked down and took notice. "Mabel, sweetie, what happened to your hand?"

"I don't know!"

"Police! Open up!" A shout came from the house. "You're surrounded!"

Stan had had enough. "Right, well, I'm gonna find somebody in charge and ask them what the heck is goin' on. You kids stay here."

Before he could do so, however, the team suddenly came out, two firmly holding the B&B guest in a night gown with her hands behind her back. She winced in pain as the team shoved her along, but otherwise kept an easy, peaceful smile on her face.

"It's you they're after?" Mabel's eyes widened as she was led past them. The woman turned, shooting her a cheeky grin, and spoke.

"See you in a week."

Then she was gone, surrounded by the SWAT team and loaded into a police vehicle. Dipper, Stan and Mabel stared after her, dazed and confused until a man with a clipboard came up to them.

"Hi. I'm Detective Weathers, and I just want to ask you a few questions..."

* * *

That morning, they turned on the local news.

 _I'm Sandra Jimenez, and today we have actual, exciting news! The serial killer and kidnapper Jane Smith, otherwise known as 'The Dog Terror' was apprehended at the Mystery Shack in the early hours of this morning. Smith escaped police in a lengthy car chase yesterday, fleeing to Gravity Falls until somebody recognised the car and alerted the authorities. Both the Dog Terror and her car are in police custody, where they are already discovering disturbing secrets about this mysterious killer. The trunk of her car was discovered to have been full of the bodies of her kidnapping victims, all of them brutally-_

Stan shut off the television, turning to his pale grandchildren with an equally blanched complexion. "Hot Belgian Waffles, she was in our house. I served her dinner!"

Dipper shuddered. "And the car with all the bodies... it was parked right outside!"

"And she bit me! Who does that?"

There was a long pause, and then: "Kids, I'm giving Soos his break room back."


	3. Chapter 3

"Yes, your children are safe." Stan paced back and forth as he spoke on the phone, stopping from time to time to smile at Dipper and Mabel. "Don't worry about it, they're mostly unharmed."

Mabel shook her head. "No, don't mention the bite! Mom'll freak out."

"Ahem, completely unharmed. And that lady's locked up, so there's really no need to send them home. You could say the only thing she's murdering from now is cereal, heh... sorry, that was too soon. I understand. Of course I'm taking this seriously!" He huffed, putting a hand on his hip. "Listen, it's perfectly safe here, and the kids want to stay. Now I gotta talk to some builders, so, I dunno, call me sometime later if you're still worried. Love you too, bye!"

Dipper grinned. "So we get to stay?"

"Your folks are thinking it over. I hope so!" He patted Mabel's shoulder. "How's your hand, pumpkin?"

"It's okay! I can click my wrist now, listen!"

"Mabel, please don't-" Dipper cringed. "Ugh, she's doing it again."

"Cl-ick, cl-ick, cl-ick!"

"Please stop."

Stan ruffled his niece's hair. "Hah, I will never understand you, kid. Now go play a video game, or whatever; I've gotta talk to some guys about my kicked-down door. You two stay out of trouble!"

He left, and Dipper turned to his sister. "How about Burnout?"

"You're on!"

Dipper switched on the television, and it went straight to news.

 _...transporting Jane Smith to an undisclosed prison as we speak. She will await trial from there. I'm Sandra Jimenez, reporting on our only story._

Mabel blinked. "Do you think she'll escape, like in the movies?"

"I doubt it." He crossed his arms, letting out a bark of laughter. "Haha, so much for, so much for 'see you in a week', right Mabel?"

"Yeah! Cl-ick, cl-ick!"

"Seriously, that's disgusting."

"What's disgusting, dudes?" Soos came in, holding a wet plunger. "Because I was just cleaning the bathroom and phew, I don't know how tourists make so much mess. And the smell, too!"

"Cl-ick!"

Dipper groaned. "I'm going to throw up."

"Anyway, how are you two doing? Stan told me all about last night; sounds crazy!"

They both nodded.

"So what's the plan for today? Any crazy adventures? Wait, wait, lemme guess: kidnapping a boy band?"

"Actually, we were just gonna play Burnout. We can hook up a spare controller, if you wanna join us."

"I love Burnout! Let's do it, dawg!"

"Okay, just... put away the plunger first."

"Cl-ick!"

"And stop doing that, Mabel."

* * *

That night, Stan tossed and turned in his bed. Sleep evaded him; all he could think about how wrong he'd been about his guest. She was a serial killer, and he just let her sit next to his grandkids! He'd been around the world and met more than his share of shady characters; he should have known, should have woken up, should've taken his grandkids and ran, should've, should've, should've...

But he didn't. Instead he glued a bunch of his stuff down and fell asleep in the living room. He was losing his edge, and he knew he'd need it back before it was too late.

 _See you in a week._

Prison hadn't stopped Stan's enemies before, and he wasn't going to count on it now. This wasn't over yet.

He rose from his bed, retrieving his glasses and grunting at a pain in his back. He cast a glance at the half-moon glaring down from outside his window – it was late, but it wasn't like he was going to bed anytime soon – and stood up, sticking his feet into slippers and walking out of his bedroom. He swiped a pair of brass knuckles off a dresser as he passed it.

Stan walked down the dark hallway, feeling the wall with one hand until he reached the attic. There he stopped, gently grasped the door handle and silently turned it, opening it until he could stick his head through.

Both the twins were there, and he sighed in relief. Mabel was cuddling Waddles, her injured hand draped across his plump body. Dipper was surrounded by books and papers, snoozing away in his everyday clothes.

He couldn't help but smile as he saw them peacefully sleeping; he loved them so, so much. Then he closed the door, and his smile dropped as he remembered.

 _See you in a week_.

They were in danger. He almost wanted to phone up their parents and have Dipper and Mabel taken to safety, but the twins had begged him to stay; he couldn't break their hearts like that. It was up to him to keep them safe, and if any serial killer wanted to get to them, they'd have to get through Stan Pines first.

That night, Stan sat by their door, watching, waiting. He wouldn't screw up again.


End file.
